666
by OurScars
Summary: Jumba goes to the prison and meets someone who also must battle inner monsters. Literally. Bad Summery. R&R. Rated T for blood and Violence.


Disclaimer: This fanfiction is inspired by A'Phronnsa Fala for the story of Debt to Society. This story uses the setting, Grenarian character, and most likely other things from A'Phronnsa Fala's story. Lilo, Stitch, and all related characters are property of Disney Productions. I suppose that the new characters would be mine.

Notes: This is my first fanfiction. Enjoy.

**666**

**Chapter One: 666**

It was Thursday morning, and the alarm clock beside Jumba Jookiba's bed made the needed racket to wake him as it flashed six o' clock in the morning. He rolled off of his bunk, wishing that the day ahead of him was not going to come, but he knew that it would. Today was the day that he went to the Federation Prison to perform community service. When the large alien finally got downstairs to the large breakfast that Pleakley made him on his service days, he was rather depressed.

Only half an hour later, the knock he had hoped wouldn't come, came to the door. Jumba opened the door and was immediately placed into the cold, metal bindings and led to the spacecraft. He accepted this without a word, because "anything he said could and would be used against him in a court of law."

He watched as his home fell to the bleakness of space. Jumba suddenly felt cold and dirty. His fate was and always would be that of a criminal, and that set him apart from his beloved family.

When they arrived, he was forced to change into his prison uniform and was given the high-tech shovel that he would be digging with to clear the rocky ground for a new wing for the Prison. Then, just like before, they were filed out according to race, build, and strength. Jumba was in the center with the other larger creatures, and the lighter ones were placed on the out side. To Jumba's dismay, the large Grenarian rapist was to his left again. He looked wicked with his large, curved horns and his four pincer-tipped arms coming out of an armored body. Being next to him made Jumba feel even dirtier.

A few armed guards placed themselves at their posts, and the work whistle was blown. All of the inmates began to dig. The sun soon rose high into the sky on its few hour rotation cycle and attacked them with its heat. It wasn't until a few hours later that Jumba looked to his right to see what other criminal he had been placed with. As he looked over, he bumped elbows with the creature to his right and he saw him shudder.

To his surprise, the creature beside him appeared to be an earthling human. The young man looked almost completely human; his skin had been turned a deep tan from the long hours in the sun and his collar-length strait, black hair had been tied back into a ponytail so it didn't hang in his face. He was of average height and had a lean, muscular build. The only thing that gave him away was the fact that his fingernails were black, and criminals didn't get nail paint in jail, so it was natural.

A slight concern welled up inside of him. This creature was merely a child as far as he was concerned; he could be no more than 17 years old. Jumba was already sweating greatly and had a burning in his muscles, so what was this boy feeling, working at the same rate as the larger, stronger species? The rock was, for some reason, a lot harder in the center, and it took great strength to break through it. Strength the boy shouldn't be able to exert much longer.

"Shouldn't you being closer to edge? Is softer rock out there," Jumba whispered to the boy. The boy looked back at him with bright yellow eyes and smiled slightly. He then tightened his grip on the shovel and dug it into the rock, picking up an immense chunk. Tossing it off to his side, he turned to look back at Jumba.

"I think I can hold my own right here, but thanks for the concern," he said coolly.

"Hay! No talking you two!" a guard shouted, his voice distorted by the mask he wore. The boy went back to work, but shot the guard an offensive gesture.

About a half-hour later the young man whispered to him again. "Aren't you Doctor Jumba Jookiba?" he whispered, not looking up from his work.

"Yes?" Jumba whispered it as a question. He was panting now, the sweat rolling off of his form.

"You shouldn't be here," the young man sighed, his voice was borderline sad, "You're a creator of life. A creator has no place in the world of killers."

"Must be because all life Jumba is making was made to take over or destroy universe," Jumba whispered back.

"Than why are we still alive?" the inmate asked, looking up from his work to look at Jumba. Jumba looked back into the criminal's yellow eyes. They were serious, with a hint of curiosity. He actually wanted an answer to his question.

"What is your name being?" Jumba asked. If this kid was going to throw philosophical questions at him, he wanted to know his name. The boy hesitated and averted his eyes. He had stopped working now and seemed to be thinking hard on the question presented to him. But before he answered, the work whistle blew again for the meal break. The boy dropped his tool and seemed to glide around Jumba as he headed for the table where the guards had people handing out water and hardtack.

All of the other criminals dropped their shovels as well and moved toward the table at the far end of the work area. Jumba turned and tried to get an answer from the kid. But the boy quickly disappeared into the mass of moving bodies. After a slight hesitation, Jumba also stepped into line to receive his "meal."

In the blazing sun, the inmates stood in the slowly moving line. After they got their food, they walked over to an area with ten or-so picnic tables to eat the sorry excuse for food. Jumba did the same. With the hard biscuit and small jug of water in hand, he approached the eating area. With his four eyes, he quickly scanned the already full tables and found the boy sitting with his back to the side of a table and his head back, basking in the scorching sun. As Jumba walked up to him, he noticed that around the boy's neck was a thin black collar. He had seen those during his own time in jail; they were electric collars, made only for the most dangerous criminals.

"I never received your name," Jumba said, sitting across from the boy. He stopped mid-bite and averted his eyes again. But this time, Jumba could see a thoughtful look in the yellow orbs. The boy swallowed, and then looked back at him with another small smile on his face.

"I don't have a name," the young man replied, "But everyone calls me by my criminal number." The nameless man took a bite of his hardtack, and then finished the introduction. "I'm known as 666."

Jumba did a double take, "But that's the—"

"Yeah, I know. It's the Mark of the Beast."

**Chapter Two: Life's Sentence **

"That is, if you believe in that stuff," 666 dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"Well, you can't not be having name," Jumba said, taking a bite of his tasteless biscuit.

"Why not? Besides, who's going to give me one? You?" the inmate scoffed.

Jumba drew himself up proudly, "Yes." 666 shrugged and waited for Jumba to think of a name for him. Jumba tried to think of a name for the young man. Lilo did it all the time, so it couldn't be that hard. "How is Leon?" Jumba asked, trying to make a German accent. But with his already thick accent, he ended up sounding like a drunk Australian.

The inmate couldn't help from laughing. The thought that some random guy would just come out of nowhere and give him some ridiculous name was hilarious to him. But he had to admit, even if the name was goofy, he still liked it. "Leon it is," he chuckled, "Or Leo for short. Leo the Lion, it's very appropriate." Jumba was confused by the last comment, but decided to ignore it.

"Now what is this being about 'Why are we still here?'" Jumba asked.

"Well, if your children—"

"My children?" Jumba asked, almost shocked.

"Yes. I mean, technically, since you created them, since you gave them life, they are your children. No?" Jumba had never thought about this notion before. Maybe his experiments were his children, and he hadn't been giving them the love and caring that they deserved. "But you say that you created them to destroy the galaxy. Yet here we are, still alive and not destroyed by any of your creations. I say that you gave them all free will, the ability to choose between good and evil."

It was amazing, this boy had practically read his mind, and deeper. Everything that he had just said were things that Jumba sometimes thought about, most times on this asteroid. They talked for a while, mostly about advanced genetics, something this inmate knew, surprisingly, a lot about. But towards the end of the meal break, this criminal asked him a question that really made him think.

"Why do you care?" Leon asked. Seeing the look on Jumba's face, he quickly reworded his question. "I mean, what makes you care? Any other person would have not cared if I killed myself doing more work than I could handle. So what made you say something to me? Why do you care?"

"Is just being basic kindness," Jumba shrugged. Leon tilted his head and gave him a quizzical look, and Jumba had to work the keep his jaw from dropping. This boy had no idea what kindness was; he had only experienced it today, from Jumba. "How long have you been in here?"

"I've served ten years of a life's sentence," he answered.

"What did you do?"

Again, Leo hesitated, averted his eyes and had a thoughtful expression come over him. But this time, his silence lasted much longer. Jumba wondered if he had somehow crossed some line with the question. The whistle blew again, and the inmates disposed of their waste and moved back to the work area. But before Leo got up, he answered the question.

"I'm in here for being alive."

**Chapter Three: Mind, Body, and Soul**

When Jumba got back to his station between the Grenarian and Leo, he noticed one big difference, everyone was talking, if quietly, but still loud enough that the guards should be able to hear them. "Why are the guards not doing anything about the talking?" Jumba asked.

"The shift changed, and this group of guards are more lenient than the morning batch," Leon said, digging harder than he had before lunch. But as the hours passed, Jumba didn't take advantage of this, mainly because Leo wasn't. He was entirely focused on his work. Soon, Jumba was sweating again, his muscles burning and he was panting open-mouthed. The sun overhead blazed as it reached its peak in the sky.

"Looks like it is my turn to be concerned about you," Leo said with a small, sly smile. Jumba looked down at him, too tired to be amused. "Tell me, why are you here, working?"

"Because Federation told Jumba to," Jumba panted.

"No!" Leo snapped, "That is why you are so tired. Because, you don't have a good reason to be here," he calmed his voice before continuing on. "Every person has three parts to themselves, the body, the mind, and the spirit. Normally, the mind fuels the spirit, and the spirit then fuels the body. But your mind isn't giving your spirit any reason to fuel the body, so you're getting exhausted. Since the normal method isn't working, you need to upset the balance. Let your soul fuel your mind, and let the mind fuel the body."

Jumba couldn't help but stare at him. Every time this boy opened his mouth, what came out always surprised him. Let the soul fuel the mind and the mind fuel the body? If he knew how to switch his 'three parts,' he would gladly try. But he wasn't even sure he believed in any of the stuff he was saying.

Then he noticed that Leo had stopped digging and was reaching his left hand up to Jumba's face. Before Jumba could stop him, his fingers brushed Jumba's brow, and something very new happened. Images flooded into his mind, images of his ohana, his family. The little girl, 626, larger girl, Pleakley, and even the surfer boy that larger girl liked. As the images flashed through his mind, he noticed that every one was a happy memory. The smiling, laughing, family flooded his mind for what felt like an hour. Then, just as quickly as they started, the visions ended. And whatever Leo had done, worked, Jumba felt full of energy once more. When the looked up, he saw that the blazing sun had not moved an inch. All those images had happened in an instant.

As Jumba was now full of energy, Leon looked drained. He was leaning on his shovel and panting slightly. He raised his hand and shouted, "Guard!" One of the lizard-like guards came over and demanded the reason for the summons. "You were right Slaen, I can't hold my own here."

The guard chuckled, something Jumba didn't think that their species could do. "I told you not to get in over your head. There is a space open over there, the inmate got heat stroke."

"Just shut up and move me," Leo threatened, despite the fact that his heart wasn't in it. As the guard walked him away, Leo turned and gave Jumba a half-hearted salute, along with another of his small, sly smiles.

**Chapter Four: Mark of the Beast**

More hours passed and Jumba's mood began to lighten up. Another half hour and he could go home. The horrors of the criminal world forgotten for another week. But just as he finished the thought, he felt the barbed pincer of the Grenarian bite into his shoulder. Jumba looked up slowly, dreading what he might see. Sure enough, the hateful stare of the armor-plated creature met his gaze.

"I've had my eye on you, tubby," the hoarse voice of the creature said beneath its muzzle. "And I think you're not an actual inmate here." Jumba rolled his eyes, _Ya think?_ " That means that you've got money. And I want it." It finished by snapping another of its claws inches from Jumba's nose. Jumba swallowed hard. Why did this have to happen now, when he had only a half hour to go?

"Hay! Get your claws off of him!" a voice shouted from behind them. The Grenarian let go of Jumba's shoulder and he turned to see who had shouted. Standing off a ways, was Leo, his teeth bared and his shovel held in a threatening manner.

"I'm sorry," the Grenarian replied in a mocking tone, "I didn't know he was yours."

Leo dropped his shovel and began advancing on their location. "Him," he nodded his head toward Jumba, "He's no one's. But you. You're mine."

All of the guards raised their blasters to stop the oncoming fight. But almost all at once, the guards all took a shovel to the head. All of the prisoners stopped digging and were watched as Leo stood only a foot or so from the large armored Grenarian. Some inmates even tightened their grips on their shovels, eager to step in and beat the crap out of 666 if given the chance.

The Grenarian was the first to attack. He thrust out and snapped at Leo with the same claw with which he had been holding Jumba. Leon leaped back a step to dodge it and then immediately stepped to his right to elude a punch to his head. An identical punch came from the right, and without the necessary time needed to dodge it, he settled for a block. With his left hand, Leo inside-blocked the pincer and let the creatures momentum carry it closer to his fist; backhanding it in the face when it got near enough. The Grenarian stumbled back, one of its pincers over a bloody nose.

"Behind you!" Jumba shouted, seeing another Keltiquanean striking from behind with a shovel. Leo must have heard him, for he responded as such. Defying gravity, Leo leaped into the air and turned 180 degrees to kick the descending shaft of the shovel, knocking it back into the alien's face. The moment he landed, his foot swung out and sweep kicked another attacker.

Enemies were coming from all around him now, and it seemed that the entire asteroid was attacking him. Dodge, block, counter, and hit, again and again and again. He blocked another shovel from behind and ripped it out of the criminal's hands. Now he had a weapon. He turned it in his hand to get used to the weight. Behind him! Leo turned at his own warning, swinging hard with his shovel. It connected with the attacker's head and brought it to the ground.

To his left, a Toreg approached him. Toregs were a species of alien that looked much like an earthen gorilla, except that they had a tail with a bony tip that was able to produce weak electrical shocks. Normally, the shocks were too weak to harm anything bigger than a rat, but Leo reminded himself of the shock collar still fastened around his neck. The Toreg lashed out with its tail, but Leon was quick enough to swerve out of the way. Moving in close, he smashed it in the ribs with his shovel. But even as the creature fell, its tail came in from behind, delivering a shock to his collar.

The pain was crippling.

Taking advantage of this momentary weakness, the Grenarian grabbed his arms from behind and held him still as another; larger alien came over and started punching Leo as hard as it could in his exposed abdomen.

Jumba could only watch this from a distance. If he thought that he could do something, he would. But the only thing he could do was try to wake up one of the guards. The only problem with that was that there was a prisoner standing close to each of the downed guards. All he could do is watch.

But as he watched, Jumba saw that Leo was saying something over and over. He was also thrashing, but the thrashing did not correspond with the punches. It seemed to be something entirely different.

"He's quite the screamer," Jumba heard the Grenarian grumble. Then his thrashing grew harder and the shouting grew louder, even though the punches didn't get any harder.

"NOOO!" Leo roared in a final note. As the shout finished, Leo doubled over and hurled the Grenarian over his back, and into the larger alien. He then stumbled back and started thrashing in place, clutching his head and howling in pain. All of his thrashing was kicking up enough dust to cover his form, and hid him from view. The sounds of grunting and shouting from inside the dust soon stopped, and everyone waited for the dust to settle.

It did settle, and no one was prepared to see what it revealed. Leo was no longer there, and in his place was a monster. It was larger than Leo had been, and covered in a thick, black fur. Although it stood on its hind legs, they were reversed jointed and the monster was hunched over. Its face was that of a beast, with a protruding maw lined with sharp fangs. The eyes were clouded over so that the beast appeared to be blind, but it was not. The fingernails were long, sharp claws and a tail flicked behind it in irritation. The remains of a prison uniform were shredded and hung off the monster's form.

With an eerie feeling, Jumba looked at the monster's neck. Sure enough, fastened around its neckline was a shock collar with three digits engraved in the dark metal: 666. So it was Leo, and all of his odd statements from before were now making sense. He had said that the name Leo the Lion was appropriate, and the beast before him looked vaguely like a lion hybrid. Another thing he had said was that he had been put in prison for being alive. Knowing the Federation as he did, Jumba had no doubt that they would put him in jail for being this monstrosity.

The beast looked around quickly, its nose sniffing at the air. Then it turned toward the Grenarian, who was still in a heap on the ground. It walked over to where the creature lay, its shoulders moving with every step so that its arms swung. Grabbing it by the neck of its prison uniform, the beast picked up the Grenarian and tossed it into another prisoner. As soon as the Grenarian landed, the beast let out a blood-curdling roar and attacked.

It leaped and landed on top of the Grenarian, its clawed feet digging into its armored chest. With its razor claws, it cleaved into its opponents sides, cutting past the armor and leavening large slashes in its rib cage. An inmate attempted to attack it from behind. But the beast spun with unnatural speed and bit into the criminal's shoulder. The prisoner still in its jaws, the monster jumped, and violently threw the alien to the ground. It landed, blood dripping from its open maw.

Slaen, the lizard-like guard, slowly came back into consciousness. At once he winced, the bruise on the back of his head throbbing. The cacophony the inmates were making wasn't helping at all either. He opened his eyes and looked at the chaos around him. But when his eyes fell upon the beast, he panicked. Groping at his belt, he pulled out a small remote control. He pointed the remote at the beast and pressed the single button.

Electricity rippled across the beast's skin. It roared in pain and gabbed at the collar. With little effort, the monster ripped it off, tossing the crackling pieces to the ground. Immediately, a blast of hot plasma seared into the beast's flesh. The beast turned toward a tower of the prison, where a sniper held his plasma rifle ready for another shot. Letting out a growl of anger, the beast slammed its hands against the ground and jettisoned itself into the air. Landing on the side of the tower at least a hundred yards away, it climbed up the window and grabbed the guard that had shot it. With a roar, it pulled the guard out the window and dropped him seven stories to the ground.

Slaen winced again as he heard the guard hit the ground with a thud. He would survive; their species was made to live through the occasional fall. Standing up slowly, as to not alert the prisoner that had his weapon. Then he applied the choke hold that all of the prison guards had to learn to the inmate and recovered the blaster. Turning on the laser sight, Slaen took aim and started shooting.

The beast growled as the stone around it was chipped away by the plasma fire. It leaped back to the ground and wrapped its hands around Slaen's shoulders. A quick head-butt was all that was needed to take him out. The beast dropped the limp guard and looked around at the other inmates. They were closing in around it, holding their shovels as weapons. Its glazed over eyes flashed and it went to work on its enemies, growling with pleasure the entire time.

Jumba watched in horror as the monster that was Leon carved a bloody path through the ring of criminals. Even with all of his superior smarts, he could still not comprehend the fact that the creature which was now killing everyone had been a boy that spewed the most interesting views on life. Suddenly, he was on his back with the beast on top of him. For a moment all he could do was stare into its glazed over eyes. They radiated such hatred, such anger, and so much pleasure in the art of killing. They were the eyes of a true monster. Then, with an odd satisfaction, Jumba realized that none of his experiments had those eyes. None of them were true monsters, and it pleased him slightly to understand this.

But then reality came back to him as the beast attempted to claw at him. Jumba raised his arm to fend off the blow. Instead, the claws just sliced through his flesh. Then came the bite. The monster bit into his neck, it didn't hit his throat or artery, but clamped down on his collarbone. Its force started cracking the thin bone, and he thought he felt it snap. But he couldn't be sure, seeing as he was too distracted by the monster's claws digging up and under his rib cage. That was one of the weirdest physical feelings he had ever felt; it was extremely painful, but very weird.

Jumba let out a cry of pain. And at his cry, the attack stopped. The beast's jaw were pried loose from his neck and the claws came out of his ribs. Opening his eyes, Jumba saw the beast looking back at him. Only the eyes that looked back were not the eyes of a monster. The white glaze that had covered them was gone, revealing the yellow eyes that Jumba had stood beside for all of those hours. New emotions were now spilling from those yellow eyes: fear, confusion, and strongest of all, pain. This beast was now feeling all of the pain it had inflicted on everyone else.

With a small whimper, the beast rolled off of Jumba's chest. It landed beside him and began to convulse. Within a few seconds, Leo was lying in the beast's place. He was unconscious, and Jumba quickly joined him in the darkness.

**Chapter Five: Meeting the Wounded**

Pleakley continued pacing the living room with the phone in hand. He was quite worried. Jumba should have been dropped off over an hour ago. The phone in his hand had been turned on, half dialed, and turned off several times as Pleakley tried to summon the courage to call the prison to make sure nothing had happened. It was a prison, a housing of caged criminals, so anything could have happened. And Pleakley could not imagine any of them being good.

After another three lengths of the living room, Pleakley tapped the call button on the phone, and then pressed it again to turn it off. As soon as he did, the phone rang. For a moment, Pleakley wondered if he had pressed the wrong button. But he hadn't, so he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Is this the home of Doctor Jumba Jookiba?" a sharp voice came on the other end.

"Yes."

"Whom am I speaking to?"

"Wendy Pleakley."

"Wendy Pleakley of the Galactic Federation?"

"Yes."

"Good. I am calling from the Federation Prison Facility Gamma. There has been a riot of sorts in the prison, and Dr. Jookiba has been severely harmed. A spacecraft is on its way to pick you up and take you to the prison. That is all." The line went dead.

The phone slipped out of Pleakley's limp hand. Of all of the scenarios that his worried mind had made, that had been the worst. But it was true; his worst thought was true. Pleakley turned as he heard the sound of little feet on a hardwood floor. He watched as Lilo walked into the kitchen and came out with a glass of water. On her way back to her room, Lilo saw him, eye wide and his mouth open.

"What's wrong with you?" Lilo asked.

"Jumba got hurt in a prison riot," Pleakley sobbed, breaking down.

The cup of water spilled on the floor. Fifteen minutes later, Pleakley, Lilo, and Stitch were on a spacecraft to the Prison. When they arrived, they were into the medical ward and directly to room 32.

"Dr. Jookiba is through there. He is stable, but he is still not conscious. You may go in if you want," the guard said before leavening. Pleakley did not hesitate; he burst through the door and into the sterile medical room.

Jumba was lying on the cold table, his shirt had been taken off but he still wore the striped prison pants. His upper body was covered with bandages; his right forearm was wrapped up and several rolls of gauze were wrapped around his ribs and then bandages branched off to cover his shoulder and neck. They stood there for a moment, just looking at him. He did not move.

Pleakley ran to him and looped both his hands through Jumba's one big one. Lilo didn't know what to do, so she kept Stitch from breaking anything. After a few more moments, a doctor came in dressed in a white lab coat. The female was pretty and had an air of friendliness about her. She approached Jumba's massive body and checked his pulse.

"Boy, you are a sleeper," she whispered to the un-answering Jumba.

"What do you mean by that?" Lilo asked, tilting her head. The doctor jumped slightly and turned around, seeing her for the first time.

"You must be the family," she said sweetly. Lilo nodded and the doctor turned back to Jumba. "Well, most people who have suffered this much damage tend to wake up from the pain. And even if they don't, they groan up a storm. But not this guy. He hasn't made a sound since the guards brought him in," she chuckled slightly, "I have to check him every few minutes just to make sure that he is still alive."

"But he is going to be okay, right?" Pleakley asked, his voice pleading.

"Why don't you ask me?" came Jumba's accented, bass voice. Everyone flocked over to him, each for a different reason. Pleakley and Lilo started hugging him, while the doctor tried to ask him questions. Stitch jumped on his head just for the sake of jumping on his head. After a quick wince, Lilo and Pleakley let go of him and he kindly asked the doctor to wait. He had to forcefully remove Stitch from his head.

"It's a good thing you're awake," the doctor said, "Your bandages need changed." As the doctor unwrapped the gauze, the family got a good look at the damage the riot had caused. His right forearm had been shredded and there was what could only be a bite mark on his neck. Across his upper belly were four puncture wounds that were an inch round each. The doctor rubbed a salve on all of the wounds and rewrapped them. "There, the ointment should heal those in another two hours. But you should keep the spots wrapped up for another few days."

"Doctor," Jumba said solemnly, "Do you have a full list of the wounded and dead yet?"

"Full list right here," she said, handing him a clipboard. His eyes scanned over it and he handed it back to her. She went across the hall to check on another wounded prisoner. There was a pause, as everyone looked at each other, unsure what to do.

"Okay, now," Jumba smiled, spreading his arms out. Again, Lilo and Pleakley rushed over to hug him. After a moment, they let go, and the questions began.

"What happened?"

"Who started it?"

"How did you get involved?"

"Who bit you?"

This last one came from Lilo, who was sitting next to Jumba on the table, looking at his wounded shoulder.

"A very confused young man," Jumba said, his voice full of confusion. He patted her on the back and slid off the table. Grabbing his flower print shirt that had been transferred to the room, he struggled into it and buttoned it. When he turned around, an armed guard stood in the doorway.

"Dr. Jookiba, we would like your assistance in holding cell two. It's prisoner 666, we think he might talk to you," the guard said. On his arm were two stripes of rank. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet and the tinted visor flipped up, revealing his lizard-like face, and he had bandages wrapped around his temples. "My name is Slaen. Follow me."

"Who is 666?" Pleakley asked as they followed Slaen down the hall.

"He is the one who bit me," Jumba said absently.

**Chapter Six: Past of a Monster**

They arrived and were ushered into a keypad locked door. The room was full of recording and medical equipment, and was manned by several guards. One wall was a window into an adjacent room, which was completely padded -- except for one metal chair in the center of the room. In that chair, bound by the metal hand restraints that Jumba had become so accustomed to, sat Leon. His head was hung low, and his entire posture was slumped.

"We want you to go in," one of the guards addressed him, "We think he will talk to you. You have been talking to him all day, haven't you?" Jumba nodded. "Good. We have been asking him questions for a little over two hours. None of the questions got any response, except when the interrogator lost his patience and asked him if he knew how many people he had hurt. At this, he seemed to wilt, and hasn't moved since."

"I'll go in," Jumba said, "But I am wanting to be seeing his file first."

"Got it right here," Slaen said, handing him a clipboard. The file read:

_Prisoner ID Number_: 666_Prisoner Name_: Unknown

_Race_: Unknown_Type_: Humanoid _Age_: 18

_Home Planet_: Unknown _Height/Weight_: 5' 10''/ 160 lbs.

_Eye Color_: Yellow_Hair Color_: Black_Skin Color_: Tan

_Racial Abilities_: None Known_Additional Abilities_: Lesser Mental/ Transformation

_Sentence_: Life Imprisonment with No Parole

_Offence_: Self-Induced Genetic Mutation/ Several Counts of First Degree Murder

_Class_: Extremely Dangerous

_Notes_: Transformation is triggered by excessive pain, only use the electric collar if 666 is already transformed, or the collar will trigger transformation.

"Lesser Mental Abilities?" Jumba said skeptically.

"Yes. He can read your thoughts or put images into your mind, but he has to be in physical contact with you. But it drains him considerably. They have just proven that mental powers are real, so we don't have anything to suppress them," Slaen said.

"That doesn't mean you have any, Slaen," one of the other guards called to him. "Shut up," was the reply. Jumba nodded to himself; that made sense. Those things that Leo had said to him, things that he could not have possibly known, had all been said after they had brushed elbows. And that slide show in his mind made sense now too.

"Take off the restraints and Jumba will be going in," Jumba said, talking in a third person.

"Are you sure you want his cuffs removed?" asked one of the guards. Jumba nodded.

"The restraints will only serve as a reminder of his imprisonment, they will be keeping him from feeling safe to talk. Besides, I don't think he is a real threat right now," Jumba said, leaning closer to the window and took a good look at Leo through it, "No, not a threat right now."

Minutes later, Jumba was standing outside of the door to the holding cell. Slaen typed the code into the keypad, and the door slid open. As Jumba walked in, he noticed that Leo's eyes flickered, moving up, but back down immediately. "How ya doing, Leon?" Jumba asked, approaching the slumped boy.

"Jumba, thank the gods you're okay," Leo whispered, pretending to see him for the first time. He didn't even seem to notice that his restraints were lying open on the floor. Louder, he said, "I am so sorry. I-I-I didn't mean for that to happen. I thought I had it all under control."

"It is being okay. Jumba is knowing that you are not meaning it," Jumba said, engulfing Leo's shoulder with his massive hand.

"Don't touch me," Leo snapped, shrugging out of Jumba's grasp. Then, more gently, "I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't," Jumba answered, placing his hand on the convict's shoulder again. This time, the hand was not brushed off. But Leo gave a quick shudder as one of Jumba's fingers touched his arm. Then his head snapped up, and Jumba saw his yellow eyes. They were filled with an answer that he didn't like.

"They think I did this to myself?" Leo whispered to Jumba. He then turned, shouting at the guards behind the one-way mirror. "You think I did this to myself!" He stood up, moving away from Jumba, his voice getting emotional. "That is a SICK thing to think. Nobody would do this to themselves." He started talking intently, moving his clenched hands with every word. "You don't know what it's like! To know that there is a monster inside of you, threatening to burst out every moment of every day. Knowing that if you let it out, it will slaughter everyone around you! That is what I live with every day. And it is something that no man should ever have to know. But to think that I did it to myself, that is an insult to my mind, my body, and my soul.

"Yes, you found me in a genetics lab. But I wasn't turning myself into a monster. I was doing the opposite. I was trying to find a cure. And I was this close!" He held his thumb and forefinger a half-inch from each other. "This close before you all rushed in and destroyed everything! All of the work that I had done to cure myself of this disease, this curse! Then you threw me into this hole for charges that I still can't comprehend."

Leo looked down at his hands and started speaking as much to himself at to the guards behind the mirror. "I can still remember the first time the beast killed. I was five, walking down a street, looking for food. What else is an orphaned monster supposed to do? Then I heard a scream, a woman's scream, coming from an ally. I went in to see a bunch of thugs beating on this woman. She couldn't have been older than I am now. And they were beating her bloody. I couldn't stand it, hearing those unanswered cries for help. So I answered them."

Leo fell to his knees. "I was able to hold off the thugs for all of thirty seconds. Then they started beating me. They used pipes, boards, and one had a hammer. That is when the pain became too much, and the beast woke up. It was like a bad dream. I could see everything happening, but I couldn't control myself. By the time I changed back, they were all dead. All but the girl, she was huddled in the corner, blood coming from a slash on her arm. The one that I had made. The way she looked at me still sticks with me today. Her eyes were full of fear… and hate. She hated me for being what I was. It was the next day that I started searching for a cure, or a means to make one.

Leo got up and slowly walked back to his chair, sitting down and looking exhausted. "And so I'm in this cage, fending off the beast in a futile battle for control, because without a way to make a cure, the beast will win, and anyone who is around when it does will die." He took a deep breath and sighed, the continuous fight that raged inside of him almost tangible for a moment, "Ask your questions. I don't care anymore." The intercom from the other room buzzed on and a voice came on, but it wasn't the voice that any one expected.

"Would you let Jumba help you find a cure?" Lilo's voice asked. The question caught both Leon and Jumba off guard.

"Could you?" Leo asked Jumba. Jumba thought for a moment and nodded.

"Of course. It should be being rather easy. I'm rather surprised that you weren't able to do it yourself. It is very simple genetics," Jumba answered.

"Simple to a Doctor who went to school for eighteen years. But not so much for a six year old who had to teach himself to read," Leon gave him a rather annoyed look. Jumba nodded again.

"No," came one of the guard's voices, "this could too easily be a lie, all of it. If this condition of yours was natural than it would be documented elsewhere in history. So, to put is simply—"

"You don't trust me," Leo finished for him. "Well, I can't say I don't blame you. It is hard to trust someone like me," he finished with a small smile.

**Chapter Seven: A Caged Animal**

Over the intercom, an alarm started going off. Instantly, a guard came in and took Jumba out and back into the viewing room.

"What is it?" Pleakley asked, a winy plea.

"A few of the wounded prisoners broke loose in the medical wing. They've got the doctor pinned in an operation room. If we don't get there soon, it will look very bad on paper. You," Slaen pointed to one of the guards, "Stay here with them. And keep the blue one out of trouble." The room emptied of all of the guards besides the one who had been told to stay. Jumba watched Leo from behind the glass. The boy was just sitting there again, slumped in his seat.

"Your collar didn't seem to work on him as a wolf, or lion, or whatever he was," Jumba said to the guard.

"Yeah, the voltage was set too low. That reminds me, a new one was made for him. You all wait here and I'll go put it on him," the guard responded, grabbing the shock collar off the table and exiting the room. They saw him enter the padded room and approach Leo. "Alright, inmate, sit still so I can put this one."

"I'll do it," Leo said, snatching the collar out of his hands. As he did, Leo noted that he felt the digits 666 coming out of the metal.

Across the prison facility in the medical wing, the most intense stand down of Slaen's career was winding up to its climax. There were six criminals, and two had somehow gotten their hands/claws/tentacles/whatever on some plasma blasters. These two were trying to hold off the guards as the other four, lead by the Grenarian, were pounding through the door to the operating room to get to the female doctor on the other side.

"I've got them, Sir," one of the guards approached Slaen with a box of flash bang grenades.

"Very good," said Slaen, who was the commanding officer. He grabbed on of the grenades, and hurled it through the doorway and into the room where the criminals were. There were a few shouts and then the loud bang of the grenade. As soon the bang went off, all of the guards rushed in, Slaen in the lead. He ran past the two groaning prisoners with the weapons and made a hand signal for the guards behind him to disarm them. When he turned around to keep going, he ran into a solid wall of flesh. The Grenarian was still standing, seemingly unfazed by the flash bang grenade. Slaen quietly swore to himself for forgetting that Grenarians were unaffected by anything short of a fragmentation grenade. He also swore right before the large pincer hit him upside the head. The officer fell hard on his back, accidentally landing on the button to activate 666's shock collar. He hoped that the criminal wasn't wearing it.

Back in the containment room, Leo and the other guard both had a hold of the shock collar. Luckily, the guard let go of it at the exact moment that it went off. Leon let out a shout of pain as the electricity surged through his body. He then collapsed in a heap on the ground.

After a moment of eerie silence, Leo started to convulse. Both Jumba and the guard knew that he was beginning to transform. Without any dust to kick up, they got to witness the transformation. It did indeed look painful. Bones cracked and crunched as the muscles overtop of them moved unnaturally as they grew. Coarse hair grew over his entire body as his prison uniform began to tear from his rapid growth. Leo's face was violently pushed out into an animal's maw, and his teeth grew into fangs. Finally, his legs became reverse jointed and his black fingernails lengthened into claws.

The beast jumped up, his eyes glazed over once more. It turned and pounced onto the guard, who was paralyzed with fear. Jumba quickly covered Lilo's eyes to keep her from seeing the blood that was sure to come. But none did. Instead, the beast threw its body off of the guard and into the door to the room, breaking it open and disappearing through it.

Jumba desperately looked around the little room for a way to warn someone. His four eyes fell on a walkie-talkie that one of the guards had left behind. He picked it up and pressed down the speak button, trusting that it was already set on the right channel.

"This is Dr. Jumba," Jumba said into the speaker, "Please be responding." Static crackled on the other end, and then a voice came through.

"Dr. Jookiba, why do you have a radio?" Slaen's voice asked. The incident had been taken care of and he was already heading back to their room.

"Never the minding. It is Leon, I-I mean 666. The shocking collar activated and he is being monster once more!" Jumba almost shouted into the radio. "He has also done with the escaping."

"I'll be right there, don't go anywhere. The room you are in is reinforced with six inches of steal, so he won't be able to break through." After several moments of fear-induced sounds, there came a pounding at the door. Stitch growled and all of his retractable parts came out. "It's us!" Slaen shouted from the other side of the door. They hadn't run into the beast on their way to the containment chamber, but they had heard sounds coming from the walls. "We're coming in." the door slid open and seven guards walked in. But as they came in, so did something else.

The beast burst through the door and shoved past the guards, charging at the group, who was huddled in the corner. It leaped, and in mid-air, was tackled by a little blue fuzz ball. The two fell to the ground and started circling each other, growling. They circled until the beast's back was to Jumba, and it attacked him. Turning, the beast jumped on top of Jumba, its jaws coming a fraction of an inch from his throat before Stitch grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and wrenched it back.

It landed on the hard floor, unmoving. All of the guards aimed their weapons at it and Stitch stood over the monster, breathing a little heavily. A moment passed before the beast moved again, but when it did, it did. The beast jettisoned itself off of the ground and latched onto the ceiling, and like an overgrown spider, climbed out of the room and into the hall. All of the guards rushed out to catch it, but by the time they got out, it was gone.

Jumba got up and rubbed his throat. When he took his hand away, a wet, slimy substance came away with it. The scientist looked at his hand, it was saliva. That meant that the beast had touched him, and if it had touched him, it had probably read his mind as well. And he had been thinking about that strategy which 626 had when terrorizing a facility. A moment later, the lights went out as power to the building was cut.

"Well Dr. Jookiba, you're the specialist on monsters. What comes next?" Slaen said, walking back into the room. Jumba looked at him and started to think. The beast was most likely going to follow Stitch's programmed strategy, so the next thing that would happen in a space colony would be the…

"Life Support Systems!" Jumba shouted. At the officer's signal, two guards rushed off to the main computer system.

"We need to get you all out of here," Slaen said, "Come with me."

**Chapter Eight: Sweat, Tears, and Fire**

"Wait," Jumba said. His four eyes darted in thought. "I am being wrong, he is not being out to take out facility. He is being out to kill, and I am having been the last one that he has gotten scent from. So he will be going after me. I should go another way so he doesn't attack them," he motioned his hand to Pleakley and Lilo. The head guard nodded and ordered one of the guards to escort the other three to a shuttle.

"Thank you for volunteering to be bait, Dr. Jookiba," one of the guards said jokingly to him. "Let's go." The remaining four guards moved to from a box around him and set out to get to the shuttle the long way. This long way would take them close to the building's furnace, which is what had brought on the joke. In the few documented times the beast had gotten loose, it had gone strait to the hottest place it could, in this case, the furnace.

The only light they had was from the flashlights on the guard's helmets. On the way, they heard a sound down another hall and two of the guards had gone to check it out, cutting the force in half.

The air became hotter as they neared the furnace, and the guards became much more tense. If there was going to be an attack, it was going to be here. It did. The beast seemed to come out of the wall, jumping on top of one of the guards and throwing him across the hall into a wall. Slaen started to shoot, but was taken out by a head butt, just like before. Then the beast turned to Jumba.

Slowly, it approached him, its walk the same odd, bouncing step as before. It stood over him, at least three feet taller and just as wide. But, Jumba was not in fear for his life anymore, for the white glaze over his eyes was dissipating, and soon the yellow orbs were looking back at him. It didn't take too long for the beast to turn back into Leon as the man got back control.

"Hi there, big guy," Leo said, his voice calm and quiet. He was almost naked, except for some ragged 'shorts' to cover him from the waist down. Jumba stood in place, frozen with shock. Leo turned around, walking toward the end of the hall, closer to the furnace. It was only ten feet away, but knowing what was waiting for him at the end, the distance felt infinite. When he arrived, he pulled the large red lever next to the great double door that held back the intense heat of the plasma furnace. The doors slid open, releasing a wave of heat and an orange glow that lit up the hall.

It was that moment that Jumba knew what the criminal was planning. "Leon! What are you thinking you are doing!" he shouted after the boy.

"You heard me back in the containment room. As long as I am alive, people will die because of me. And I'll not have that," he said, turning back to Jumba. He saw the worry and concern on Jumba's face and gave him a small smile. But this smile was different than the other ones he had given him before. Those had been sly, mysterious smiles set beneath hardened eyes. This one was a kind, comforting smile set beneath soft eyes. "I don't expect you to understand," Leo sighed, "Not now. One day you will, but I hope that that day is far from now." He smiled kindly again, "Besides, I can die now in peace. You gave that to me. You showed me kindness, and that was all I needed. There are two doors on the road to life. One is good the other is bad. You showed me which door was the right one to open. You showed me the door to the heavens. So now I say goodbye. And again, I'm so sorry." With that, he turned and walked into the burning plasma, into the furnace, to his death. It was not suicide; it was self-sacrifice to save countless lives. But Jumba couldn't understand that.

"No!" Jumba shouted, running down the hall to try and stop him. But as he got close, the double doors slid shut at Leo's command. Jumba pounded on the doors with his purple fists. The superheated metal burned his hands and he had to stop. He turned and ran back to the downed guards. Grabbing one of the radios, he pressed the button and spoke into it, "This is Dr. Jumba. Two officers down and in need of medical assistance. I am repeating, two officers down and in need of medical assistance near the furnace!" He looked back at the doors with sad eyes and then spoke into the radio again, "We have located 666."

**Chapter Nine: Funeral **

The entire ohana stood in the back yard, waiting for Jumba to return. It had been a week and a half since the prison incident, and Jumba had been acting strange ever since. He had locked himself in his ship and had only come out to talk to Lilo and Stitch, giving them directions not to tell anyone else what he told them. The big alien still had not told anyone what had happened in that hallway, only that Leon had died. Pleakley had managed to get a report from the prison. When they had cooled down and opened the furnace, there had been no body, only a piece of striped cloth with 'no more pain' written on it in blood. How the cloth was there when the body was gone, no one knew. Today, Jumba had come out of his ship just before sunset and directed his family, even David, into the back yard and then left.

Finally, they saw him come through the woods carrying something large and heavy. They saw what it was when he set it down. It was a tombstone. From the pocket of his shirt, he pulled out three roses, a red one, a white one, and a black one. He gave two of them to Lilo and Stitch and stood in front of the tombstone.

It was elegantly carved with stone vines that led up to a six-winged angel perched atop the tombstone. In a fancy script, it read:

_**LEON**_

_**On the road of life there are two doors**_

_**I hope you found the one that you want to open**_

Stitch took one step toward the stone, holding the black rose in one paw, to represent the sins of the deceased. "For one who had a curse," Stitch said in perfect English. Ever since Jumba had given him the assignment, he had practiced the words so that he didn't mess up. Upon finishing his statement, Stitch dropped the black rose in front of the stone.

Lilo then stepped forward, clutching the white rose, for the good he had done. "For one who saw the world through untainted eyes," she said, and dropped the white rose on top of the black one, making an _X_.

Finally, Jumba stepped forth, carrying the red rose. It had no real meaning, just a gift from the living to the dead. "We'll miss you," Jumba said, gently placing the rose in the middle of the others. They all stood for a moment, and then Jumba smiled and started to walk away. They all followed him back into the house, just as the sun was setting. That night, Jumba slept for the first time in a week.

**Chapter Ten: The Guardian Beast**

Two more weeks passed. Jumba had gone to do community service on the Thursdays as usual. But today, a Thursday, they received a call from the prison. The records said that his sentence had been cut short, and that he didn't have to report to the prison any longer. When asked why he had been granted this privilege, all that was said was that the Grandcouncil Woman had ordered it herself. That evening, they went to a small diner in celebration. This diner was Jumba's favorite place on the whole island, besides the house, of course.

But to balance the good that had happened that day, there had to be something bad. While they were at the diner, enjoying the excellent baked potatoes, the place was robbed by a man with a gun. He burst in and told everyone to get on the ground, so they all did. Lilo even had to order Stitch not to do anything at the other people's expense.

"I said get on the ground!" the man behind the ski mask shouted. Jumba looked up to see whom he was yelling at. Sitting at one of the tables, tapping his white-gloved fingers on a cup of tea was a young man in a long, white, leather coat. His face was hid from view by a wide brimmed, white hat. The robber shouted the order again and waved the gun in the man's face. The man just kept on tapping his cup. Jumba saw that it was going to get ugly, and closed his eyes as he covered Lilo's.

There was a gunshot followed by a pained grunt, and then the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. But when Jumba opened his four eyes, what he saw was not what he expected. The gun was on the table with a smoking bullet hole above it on the ceiling. Face down on the ground was the robber, his arm bent in an odd way. The man in the white coat was gone, just vanished as if he had never been.

Only moments later, behind the house, standing in front of the tombstone, stood the same man from the diner. The ironic thing was that he was standing in front of his own tombstone. Leon took off his hat to expose his face. It was the same as before, yellow eyes above a small smile. His long black hair stirred slightly as a wind kicked up. He bent down and picked up the red rose, still fresh after the weeks it had been out. As he removed his hand with the rose, the black and white roses both blew away in the wind.

He watched them flip and tumble as they were taken away on invisible wings. When they disappeared from his view, he felt as if all of his past actions had been wiped away, good and bad.

Leo had died in the flames of his soul; there was no doubt about that. But he was now arisen, given the privilege to watch over the people who had purified him. A Guardian Angel. But an angel he was not, not after the things that he had done. Though _They_, the ones who had given him back his life, had told him that his sins were forgiven, he still felt dirty. And angels can't be dirty. He removed his left glove, looked at his left hand, palm out, and peered at the last mark his past had left on him.

Burned into his palm, were the numbers 666. A mark from his past that had stayed with him even through death and rebirth. It was appropriate, seeing as the beast was still with him also. But it was no longer a beast, for it did not battle him. It was now his friend, his ally in the fight. As he stared at the three digits, he understood who he was.

He was, forever, a Guardian Beast.


End file.
